


Over Boxes

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Goodbye, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-20 11:25:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m going to miss you." Blaine’s voice fails him, and his lower lip trembles as he continues pressing the heel of his hand into his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over Boxes

**Author's Note:**

> Reaction fic to 4.01, The New Rachel.

"If I’d had foresight, I would have left the Post-Its intact for a few more months," Kurt grumbles as he tapes his next box closed. “You know how long it took me to reorganize everything?"

"Four hours."

Kurt looks over at where Blaine is taping closed another box labeled with  **BOOTS**  in big, block, Blaine-written letters. He glances up at Kurt with a sad smile.

"I helped, remember?"

"Yeah," Kurt says, his voice going suddenly quiet. He presses his lips together and turns around and away from Blaine, shaking his head and shifting his shoulders back and forth. He needs to get a hold of himself.

"That’s four hours that  _could_  have been used to pack and now I have to  _rush_  and does my dad not understand how temperamental my scarf collection is? And he wants me to put it in a box for who  _knows_  how long. Then there’s the fact that I am living out of a suitcase—one, Blaine,  _one_ —and this is  _crazy_ , I didn’t think when I said to my dad, ‘Hey! I think I’ll move to New York!’ that he’d look at me and say, ‘Great! Your plane leaves on Tuesday!’ and—" He turns with another box in his arms and it bumps right against Blaine’s chest.

He’s right there, two feet away, and he’s looking at Kurt with calm, steady eyes. 

"I was rambling again, wasn’t I?" Kurt asks meekly; Blaine takes the box from him and sets it on his (disturbingly empty) desk.

"I was going to say freaking out, but we can call it rambling if you want to." Blaine holds out his hands and Kurt takes them until they’re settling on the edge of the bed. It’s covered with most of Kurt’s wardrobe still and he forces away all thoughts of the actual act of packing it. Kurt sits and waits for Blaine to launch into his pep-talk—how Kurt can do this, how much Blaine believes in him, how Kurt is made for New York.

But Blaine doesn’t say anything.

He holds Kurt’s hands and he stares at them, his fingers occasionally squeezing tightly around them. He’s so still except for that one movement and Kurt finds himself leaning closer and tilting his head.

"Blaine?"

Blaine hardly lifts his head to meet Kurt’s eyes and, when he does, his own are glassy. Kurt sucks in a quick, audible breath and Blaine is immediately shaking his head.

"I’m fine."

But his voice breaks.

"I’m fine, I’m sorry, you don’t—you don’t need this right now. We have to pack, right?" Blaine pulls his hands back, slapping them against the top of his thighs for emphasis. “Come—" He moves to stand but Kurt catches his wrist and stops him.

"I have time." Kurt furrows his eyebrows. “Blaine, what’s wrong?"

Blaine laughs, but it’s such a contrast to his normal laugh that it stabs uncomfortably at Kurt’s heart. He tugs until Blaine is sitting again, closer this time, their knees bumping. He’s rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand and Kurt draws back in surprise when he realizes that Blaine is crying.

"Oh baby, no, no," Kurt shushes, reaching out to pull Blaine close to him. He isn’t sure where it’s coming from, not yet, but Blaine comes to him so easily until his hands are wrapped tightly around Kurt’s neck.

"I’m sorry," he keeps saying, over and over again, but Kurt just presses his face into Blaine’s hair (and a part of him realizes, remembers, that this will be one of the last time he’s hit with the sharp scent of Blaine’s hairgel) and continues to shush him, murmuring, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I love you, it’s okay."

Blaine’s never been a loud crier. His tears fall silently and, the harder her cries, the more they stream like rivers from his eyes. But he shakes. His whole body is shaking and Kurt feels like he’s holding him together, squeezing tighter whenever Blaine has to breathe and has the smallest, saddest hitch in his breath.

"I thought you wanted me to go," Kurt murmurs, and Blaine nods. “You told me to go." Blaine nods again and Kurt can feel the damp flutter of Blaine’s eyelashes against his neck. “I can still change my mind."

Blaine jerks back then and shakes his head and Kurt’s entire face falls at how  _broken_ Blaine looks.

"No." His voice is broken, too. “No, you need to go. You—" Blaine swallows, trying to gather enough of himself together to talk, and all Kurt wants to do is tuck Blaine against him and hold him until he smiles again. “I’m going to miss you." Blaine’s voice fails him, and his lower lip trembles as he continues pressing the heel of his hand into his eyes.

Kurt does pull him in then; he pulls Blaine so close that Blaine moves easily into his lap until they’re wrapped around each other. Kurt’s heart hurts so badly he feels sick with it—things are supposed to be different. Blaine is supposed to be coming with him, somehow, so that he can have his city, and his best friend, and the love of his life all at the same time.

Is it really that much to ask for?

"I’m going to miss you, too," Kurt whispers, running his finger tips through the back of Blaine’s hair and trying to memorize the way the gel makes it scratch at his skin. “But remember when I thought I was going to New York before? We’re going to be okay, we’re going to—"

"It’s not the same," Blaine mumbles against his shoulder. “I’ll miss  _you_. I’ll miss… Miss seeing you and being able to reach out and hold your hand, or brush a piece of hair off your forehead, or hold you, or  _kiss_  you, it’s not… It’s not the same."

"I know," Kurt says fiercely. “I know it’s not, and… It’ll be hard. God, I wish I could… Put  _you_  in my suitcase and take you with me." Blaine lets out a gasping little laugh and it makes Kurt smile.

"I’d probably fit," he jokes, and Kurt hugs him tighter.

"I love you, honey, but I need to fit every versatile piece of clothing into that suitcase."

Blaine laughs again, tilting his head up so that Kurt and him can awkwardly look at one another.

"I guess we’ll just…"

"There’s Skype," Kurt says quickly, cutting Blaine off. “And visits. So many visits. I mean—Blaine, I’m going to live someplace without  _parents_." He leans in conspiratorially, his grin turning into something secretive, and Blaine chuckles, his cheeks flushing.

"Now I’m starting to rethink that ‘stowing away in your suitcase’ thing if you’re thinking like  _that_."

Kurt dips down and presses a quick kiss to Blaine’s lips.

"It’ll just have to be incentive for you to come and see me."

"Seeing you is enough incentive for me to come and see you," Blaine says quietly, and Kurt presses their foreheads together. “Shouldn’t we be packing?" Blaine asks a few minutes later, and Kurt shakes his head.

"No, we can take a break. Actually, you should help me move my wardrobe off my bed."

Blaine blinks at him, eyes sparkling curiously.

"Why?"

"Because I’d like to do things on it and really don’t want to sacrifice my wardrobe for them."

"Done."


End file.
